My first recollection of Skegness, recalls Martin Skeffington, was probably 1953 when all of us children living in Station Road, Earl Shilton were invited on a trip to the seaside as part of the Coronation Year celebrations. I can remember being on the beach when there was a small shower of rain. It lasted only a few minutes and was put down to the fact the tide was turning. As an impressionable child henceforth I always thought that when the tide changed there was a short shower of rain. It was only later in life that I discovered it to be otherwise.

We must also have visited Skegness a year or so after the East Coast Floods of the early 1950's. At that time we stayed at the Firbeck Guest House on Firbeck Avenue in the town. My cousin Douglas was with us and we had been brought to Skegness with my parents and Aunt Frances and Uncle Les.

Dad never learnt to drive so we relied on Uncle Les to take us about. At that time he had a Morris motorcar, which he had purchased before the war. Its registration number was I think JX 6160 and its first owner must have lived in the Halifax area of Yorkshire to which town the registration letters were allocated. It had a sun roof that had a tendency to leak in heavy rain.

During the war it had been parked up in a garage due to lack of petrol. In those days it was wonderful to ride about in a car, and with Aunt Frances and Uncle Les having no children of their own I was fortunate enough to be able to be taken about by them.

The route from home to Skegness was reckoned to be about 100 miles and we would set off early, rarely exceeding 40 miles per hour. Through Leicester to Melton Mowbray and on to Grantham there was always something to excite the young mind. We were kept occupied by 'I spy' and other such simple games.

Passing the water spout at Croxton Kerrial was always exciting, and once past Grantham we eagerly awaited the cottage by the side of the road that was considered the half way point. On past Threekingham and on to Boston, expectantly looking for the first sign of the Boston Stump (St. Botolph's Church Tower). Through Boston on to Wainfleet and we knew we were approaching the coast and Skegness.

Arriving at the Firbeck Guest House we would be shown our room. Meals were taken with the other guests and as children we would be expected to eat up our food. One thing which sticks in my memory is the taste of the peas. Whoever podded them never removed the peas which had been attacked by the weevil so consequently the grub could still be found among the cooked peas. We must not complain - that was not the done thing. 'Eat it up', says dad, 'It only tastes of pea!!'

It was down to the beach with bucket and spade, decked out in the beach costume knitted by grandmother Lucy. This was all-purpose for both the beach and paddling, riding the donkeys and generally messing about on the sand. I must have worn this for several holidays as I have a photograph of myself outside the Lynton Guest House, which I am guessing was also in Skegness.

Then there was the Fairy Dell where we paddled, or the boating lake where we tried to catch crabs, presumably washed in when it was flooded by the sea the previous year. Then there were the amusement arcades, walking up and down the promenade often meeting others from home who were known to my parents.

At that time everyone went away the first two weeks in August known as the Bank Holiday Fortnight. It was like picking up the village and transporting it to the coast. Village gossip could be continued but 100 miles from its usual location.

As you walked along the promenade or elsewhere in Skegness you were often caught by Wrates' Photographers. You would be photographed and given a ticket. which you would later produce at the pier entrance where Wrates had their kiosk. You then had the chance to purchase the result for a few shillings or whatever it cost. We still have photographs taken by Wrates.

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